


Home is where the Heat is

by Gays_and_Memes



Series: Home is where the Heat is [1]
Category: Frostpunk (Video Game)
Genre: Diary/Journal, Other, Romance, Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:15:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26111737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gays_and_Memes/pseuds/Gays_and_Memes
Summary: A citizen's journal, depicting their part in the birth of a new settlement and their hope for the future. Will surviving the coming storm be enough to make this place feel like home?Main character's gender is unspecified. Romance is X/F.Hope you enjoy! ✨
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Series: Home is where the Heat is [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1895923
Kudos: 5





	Home is where the Heat is

DAY ONE

I’m not sure what day it is or how long we’ve been searching, but today we finally found the generator. There wasn’t much time for celebration, but I haven’t seen that much hope on the faces of the others in a long time. 

It was morning when we found it, so we immediately set to work collecting coal, wood, and steel from the surrounding wreckage. We were able to collect enough by nightfall to turn the generator on thankfully. I’m grateful for those that worked all day today and will now stay out late tonight to hunt while the rest of us sleep. They will have a well-deserved rest while the rest of us continue collecting scraps and building tomorrow. 

I am crying now while I write this because I can’t remember the last time my hands were warm enough to move this smoothly. The last time it was warm enough for pencil to work on paper. 

Tonight we are sleeping on the ground near the generator. The mayor thought it was best to use the first wood scraps to build outbuildings rather than tents to sleep in. I suppose it’s best to have the Cookhouse and Medical Center available as soon as possible, but it would have been good for morale to finally sleep out of the wind for a night. Perhaps tomorrow, we will have that luxury. For now, I think we are all just grateful for the warmth. 

DAY THREE

Today we built a Workshop so that engineers have a place to focus on research. Though I have training as an engineer, I am still on duty collecting resources for now. I’ve heard that their first project is to design better hunting gear so that the Hunters bring in more food from their nightly expeditions. I’ve been speaking with some of the others, and it seems I’m not the only one losing patience with sleeping on the ground. I can appreciate the desire for heartier meals, but does that really take precedence over a few simple tents? It would provide privacy and a sense of permanence to our settlement. Shelter is a basic need, is it not? 

DAY FIVE

This morning we finally banded together and demanded that the mayor allow us to prioritize building tents. We’ve tried to stay quiet and respect their leadership, but our voices must be heard as well. Yesterday we were asked to build a beacon with the wood we’d recently gathered. We are of course excited to begin looking for our lost friends and family members, but what sort of habitation do we have to offer here, where we don’t even have tents for basic shelter? Would we continue to pile up in a crowded heap to sleep near the generator every night? We should be building proper homes by now, but here we are without even a scrap of fabric to protect us against the falling snow and biting wind. One woman was so passionate she was shaking her fist as she demanded we be heard. In response to our plea, the mayor promised that they would make sure enough tents were erected to house all of us in two days time. We’ll see if that promise is kept… 

DAY SEVEN

I am delighted to be writing today from inside the simple comfort of a small tent. I’m a bit far out from the generator, but the mayor constructed a steam core nearby so that the heat can reach everyone. I didn’t think they would keep their promise, but this gesture has given me hope. We may not see eye to eye on how they are prioritizing the construction of this settlement, but at least when our voices are raised, they are heard and respected. I asked around about the passionate woman from the protest the other day. I was able to find out that she worked at the cookhouse, but not her name. I intend to look for her the next time I’m there, even just to catch a glimpse. I’m not sure why exactly, but she’s left quite an impression on me. 

DAY TEN

Early this morning, the mayor directed us to construct a second Workshop. Since I have training as an engineer, I was one of the five assigned there to work on research and development. The mayor explained that doubling the effort on research projects is the only way we can hope to make efficient use of the limited space and resources here. That our survival depends on it. The project that we are currently working on is a Wall Drill, which will allow us to gather unlimited wood so long as it’s operational. While so many of us are freezing in our tents every night as the temperature continues to drop, I have to wonder if increasing the generators heating ability wouldn’t be a more pressing priority. But I am trying to trust in the mayor's leadership. If nothing else, my new role gives me a small sense of purpose. If we aren’t able to increase the heat output of the generator soon, perhaps we can at least finally build proper homes with the wood we’ll have access to with the Wall Drill. 

I’ve been keeping an eye out for that woman at the cookhouse, but haven’t had the fortune to run across her yet. Perhaps she works the lunch shift when I’m not there, or perhaps she stays in the back. Nevertheless, I will continue to keep an eye out for her. 

DAY FIFTEEN

Yesterday my workshop was closed and I was reassigned to a medical post. I’m frustrated that this will further delay a generator upgrade and proper housing, but I understand the need to prioritize those that have fallen ill. This morning a woman with a fever who was shaking with chills was admitted to my facility. I didn’t recognize her at first, but when I got up close to give her care I realized it was the woman I had inquired about from the protest. I’ve gone out of my way to take good care of her, and I think the others have noticed, but I just can’t help myself. I feel drawn to her in a way I haven’t felt in a very long time. I still hadn’t found out her name before now, but it’s nice to finally put one to her currently stricken, but still beautiful face. Beth. Whether I say it out loud or put it in writing, it feels like a breath of fresh air. Tomorrow I think I’ll ask the mayor to allow for extra rations for the sick. Honestly, the faster we can get people well, the less likely they will die and the more likely we can all get back to work.

DAY SEVENTEEN

I’ve felt more alive in the last two days than I have in the last two months. The mayor approved my request for more rations, and hope throughout the colony has soared. I was sad to see Beth go, but so grateful that she was well and smiling again. She told me to come and say hi if I’m ever at the cookhouse while she’s working. Normally I grab my breakfast and lunch rations at the same time on my way to work, but tomorrow I think I’ll fancy grabbing my lunch separately for once. Tomorrow I’ll be back to work at the workshop, but I am so grateful I finally had the opportunity to cross paths with Beth. 

DAY EIGHTEEN

I was elated all day waiting to go to lunch to see her. Someone commented that it was the first time they’d heard someone whistle while they worked in longer than they could remember. I laughed and shrugged, not willing to explain. When lunchtime hit and I saw her face at the cookhouse, it was like seeing the sun in the morning and feeling the warmth of it spread through me. Her smile shone straight onto my heart and her laugh was music for my weary soul. 

DAY TWENTY

Today at the workshop we began researching the technology to send a second set of scouts out. Everyone is excited since it would allow us to look for the others faster. So many of us are still waiting to be reunited with family they were separated from and old friends. At lunchtime, I worked up the courage to ask Beth to have dinner with me. It’s the closest thing to a date we can really manage while the city is still in its infancy. 

DAY TWENTY-FIVE

I can barely write for the tears that are spilling onto the page. We finished research for a second scout sled a couple of days ago and today the mayor finally put together the team. They took two people from the cookhouse and it is now operating with three instead of the normal five. I should have expected it was possible, but I am devastated that Beth was one of those chosen to go. Just when I had finally found some happiness in the face of this frozen hellscape, it has been ripped away from me. She promised to write to me if she can while she’s out on missions, to be dropped off to me whenever they return home with what they’ve found. I have promised to do the same for her, though I don’t have the heart to write anything tonight. The team was sent out immediately after being assembled, so there wasn’t much time for anything other than a hasty goodbye and good luck. 

DAY THIRTY-TWO

This last week has been harder for me than perhaps even the entire month before, including before we found the generator. The team has only stopped back once so far. Laden down with supplies from several camps and a gaggle of children that we had thought were lost. We rejoiced for the salvation of the little ones, but I did not feel that joy penetrate the fear I had that Beth might not come back from the next mission. I was able to see her for an hour before she was sent back out into the cold and we made the best of that precious hour possible. The memory will have to carry me until we can meet again. 

DAY THIRTY-SIX

Beth is finally home to rest. The last two days have been absolute bliss. We are all preparing for a huge storm that is on the horizon, but now that Beth is back, I can’t help but feel that nothing else matters. I am glad that she is here to stay now that all of the known locations have been scouted. 

DAY FORTY

It seems I may have jinxed myself. After six days, Beth was sent back out into the icy tundra. There are hoards of survivors making their way to our beacon, driven towards us by the approaching storm. Three scout teams have been sent out to find and guide them the rest of the way. They are moving as quickly as possible, but more and more people keep appearing. I hope Beth is able to make it back safely before the storm hits. 

DAY FORTY-FOUR

Beth is finally back again, but I don’t know if we are ready for the storm. We have enough food, but we’re still scrambling to upgrade bunkhouses into properly insulated housing. Thankfully most of the workspaces have already been upgraded with new insulation, though I don’t know how much longer we’ll be able to continue to work if the temperature keeps dropping as quickly as it has been. For now, I am just grateful that Beth has made it back to me safely again. Perhaps after the storm, I will ask her to marry me. 

DAY FORTY-SEVEN

The storm has finally hit and everyone is battening down the hatches in their homes. A lot of people are refusing to work and I worry that those still patrolling will get frostbite or be lost to the storm. The medical centers don’t have enough insulation to stay open, so we are reliant on the infirmaries that are still up. I worry about the limited space they provide, as many of us are falling ill now that the generator is no longer enough to keep us much more than merely alive. I can barely write this even now, and expect this to my last entry until… I supposed it’s more accurate to say 'unless' this storm passes. And quickly. I don’t think we can hold out much longer. Every time I think the temperature can’t possibly drop further, it does. I spend most of my time just praying that we make it through. With Beth in my arms, at least I can die having known love one last time… 

DAY FORTY-EIGHT

We were lying in bed, myself convinced that we were literally frozen to it, when the wind finally died down and the sun was able to shine down on us once again. I cried in relief, happy to see that my tears were no longer freezing on my cheeks. Once up, I turned to Beth, got down on one knee, and asked her to be my wife. She cried and responded that nothing would make her happier. My heart swelled with joy and for the first time since arriving, I finally felt like this settlement was home. 


End file.
